


Cadence

by grassylampshade



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Piercings, Secretly romantic, not as scary as it seems, they've got their own thing going, this is fluff if you like weird shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassylampshade/pseuds/grassylampshade
Summary: Jaskier used to gasp and pant after each piercing, writhing against his restraints as he regained his composure. Now, Geralt can move with the cadence of Jaskier's slow breath.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started as a Discord chat which I completely derailed and wrote this entire fic almost verbatim. Thanks to [Vidra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vidra/pseuds/Vidra) and [MisterStalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterStalker/pseuds/MisterStalker) for letting me ramble on.

Geralt presses the sharp tip of the needle against his skin.

"Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly while I push in."

Jaskier fills his lungs as deeply as he can. On Geralt's nod, he pushes the air out and lets the pain in.

Jaskier used to gasp and pant after each piercing, writhing against his restraints as he regained his composure. Now, Geralt can move with the cadence of Jaskier's slow breath.

Jaskier inhales, Geralt picks up the first needle.

Jaskier exhales, Geralt pushes it through.

Jaskier inhales, Geralt picks up the next needle…

Today Geralt wants to see Jaskier sparkle. He ran a ladder of piercings down either side of Jaskier's spine.

"You're doing so well."

He traces a finger from each hand down the lines, feeling the ridges of the needles under Jaskier's skin.

"You won't keep these, these are just for me. Just for tonight."

Jaskier doesn’t nod. He has no idea how long he has been on his hands and knees. His ass is tilted 'just so' to keep the skin of his back relaxed enough for Geralt to work. He has put himself away, all of his own feelings and desires minimized so he can be fully present for Geralt. He doesn’t need to be tied down anymore; he can stay still the way Geralt wants.

"I bought some pretties for you."

Jaskier almost turns at that. Geralt bought something... for him? He manages just barely to keep himself centered on the bed but he can't stop the thrum of pride, of arousal, from churning under his skin.

" _Thank_ you, Geralt."

"Would you like to see?"

Jaskier licks his lips. He wants to see more than _anything_. He wants to know what trinkets Geralt would spend precious coin on, what lovely baubles he chose for them to enjoy in private. It feels too personal to look at. The offer is unusually forthcoming for Geralt.

"Only if you'd like to show me."

"Hm."

Jaskier can't tell yet if he made the right choice.

He feels a slight weight come to rest in the small of his back. Geralt pours strong spirits over a scrap of cloth and Jaskier can hear things clicking together inside the box on his back as Geralt wipes the jewelry clean.

After a time, Geralt sets aside the cleaning cloth and puts a hand on either side of Jaskier's rib cage, pushing forward just enough to tug on the aching lines where the needles wait inside him.

Jaskier braces himself as Geralt leans forward and forces Jaskier to take his weight.

Geralt's bulk stretches his skin. Jaskier's back feels as though he is covered in a warm blanket, studded with crooked nails.

He holds firm. Geralt is never a burden to him. He can support the both of them as long as Geralt needs him to.

Slowly, so slowly, Geralt leans back, easing the tension on Jaskier's tender flesh. He leaves his hands spread over Jaskier's ribs for another moment. His fingers are curled around to the front and they brush gently over Jaskier's belly. He tries not to flinch from the ticklish strokes.

Geralt never thanks him or praises him after a test like that, bearing his weight. He doesn't need to. Jaskier would do it even if it earned him a beating.

"I'm going to switch to the jewelry now."

Jaskier doesn't nod. It's not a question because it doesn't need to be. Jaskier knows all he needs to do is breathe.

He inhales and Geralt picks up the first piece of jewelry.

He exhales and Geralt pushes the metal hook through, forcing the needle out.

He inhales and Geralt picks up the next piece of jewelry…

Eight slow breaths. Eight shiny trinkets.

Jaskier blinks and tries to collect enough scraps of his mind together to hold a coherent thought while Geralt tidies away the needles. He lifts the box off Jaskier's back and Jaskier feels so light he could almost float away. He's still trying to count, trying to _remember_.

Geralt rummages through their bags. Jaskier doesn't know which one or why, and he doesn't care. He holds himself still, trying not to move at all. The fine tremble in his body sends the hanging baubles shivering over his skin.

"Up now."

Geralt has found what he was looking for. He wraps a huge hand around Jaskier's arm and tugs him off the bed. Jaskier stumbles and manages to catch himself before he has to lean too much on Geralt's grip.

Geralt tows him over to the full-length mirror by the tub. It’s an unthinkable luxury in most inns. This place is a little nicer than their usual, but not so much as to be unreasonable. Geralt had said this inn had large copper tubs and he had been correct, dragging Jaskier in for an excessively long soak after dinner. Jaskier forces himself into the present moment, his mind is divided and his thoughts are scattered. He tries to put himself away again but bits and pieces keep slithering out.

Geralt turns him so his back is toward the long mirror and presses something into Jaskier's lax palm, cradling it until Jaskier can make himself grip it. He looks up at Geralt, uncertain.

Geralt nudges Jaskier's elbow, pushing the bright object into view. It's a small mirror, the kind a lady might carry. The back is a shining mother of pearl disc, the edges chased in silver. A tiny silver hinge folds the halves closed to protect the mirror's face.

It's completely incongruous, out of place here, with them. It isn't his and he can't imagine Geralt owning such a thing despite Geralt's vanity regarding his hair.

Geralt nudges Jaskier's elbow again and Jaskier opens the mirror, trying not to fumble as even the small movements of his arms pull at the skin around the piercings. He can't tell if the fluttering feeling is from sweat or the jewelry or nerves.

He holds the mirror up and casts it over his shoulder, trying to align the mirrors to see Geralt's handiwork. He flicks his eyes at Geralt to check this is correct. Geralt watches him steadily. This is what he wants.

On either side of his spine, in two perfect columns of four, dainty silver hooks carry faceted sapphires. The sapphires are matched pairs, increasing in size as they drip down his back.

He gasps and drops the mirror. Geralt catches it, and catches _him_ , as memories finally snap into place and a lightning bolt of understanding weakens Jaskier's knees. He holds tightly to Geralt, and Geralt holds him tightly in return, golden eyes locked on Jaskier's back and the shimmering gift there.

Eight heavy sapphires. Eight long years.


End file.
